


Friend and Foe

by KillerSnotMonster



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Elysian Fields 12 Years 12 Seasons Challenge, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-08-29 23:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerSnotMonster/pseuds/KillerSnotMonster
Summary: After the Glove of Myhnegon disaster with Gwendolyn Post, the Scoobies realize they need a more reliable way to discern ally from enemy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Elysian Fields 12 Years 12 Seasons Challenge](https://dark-solace.org/elysian/PromptChallenge.php). Title banner by [DauntlessGrace](https://dark-solace.org/elysian/viewuser.php?uid=13642). Beta work (except for the first chapter, which is unbeta'd) by [beauty](https://dark-solace.org/elysian/viewuser.php?uid=6328).
> 
> (Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.) 

Buffy eyed the clock gloomily as the last few seconds of sixth period ticked by. It wasn't fair, she thought to herself for the zillionth time, that she was on academic probation. Outrageous that she, the Slayer, whose life's work was to defend the world from the forces of darkness, should have to deal with high school faculty and their ridiculous rules about actually going to class and doing the homework…

Okay, okay, maybe she wouldn't be winning any arguments with that one, but still. One thing was certain: Principal Snyder sucked. And not in the more often than not too literal _I-want-to-suck-your-blood_ way that was common in Sunnydale thanks to its vamp population; but in the very real possibility that he was a spawn of Satan way. What kind of tyrant assigned detention on a Friday night? A Friday night that the Dingoes were playing at the Bronze no less? He was positively evil.

...And unfortunately human, as far as she knew, so her fantasy of epically slaying him or having Willow magick him away could never be.

The bell rang and Buffy sulked against the lockers, waiting for her friends. Xander was first to appear.

“Ah, behold the detention-bound Buffster,” he greeted as he dialed in his combination. “A martyr of our time.” She glared in response.

“Buffy!”

It was Willow. She looked frazzled but eager, an armful of books bulking her form as she sidled past other students in the hallway.

“Buffy, I was up all night reading.” She held up the topmost book in the pile, a slim leatherbound volume from Giles's collection. “And then I spent lunch and fifth period in the computer lab. And I have an idea for a spell that could be super useful. We _have_ to go see Giles.”

“Uh, sure Will. I have some time to kill I guess. What's this about?” She straightened up from her slouch against the lockers and joined Willow as she headed toward the library. Xander slammed his locker shut and fell into step behind them.

“I'll explain everything in just a second,” Willow assured her.

They swung open the doors on a typically empty library. As they gathered at the table, Giles came out of his office.

“Oh good, you're here,” he said to Buffy as greeting. “Willow, I haven't seen you all day. I assumed you spent the day at home.”

“Sorry,” Willow grimaced. “I was doing some research. You know the whole Gwendolyn Post thing was kind of an enormous disaster?” She looked at his bruised and swollen eye as he nodded once in reply. “I was thinking, what if there was a spell to make sure that kind of thing didn't happen anymore? Something so we'd know the good guys from the bad guys. And I _know_ that's vague and there's grey area all over the place,” she said when Giles opened his mouth to interrupt her. “And a truth spell wouldn't be practical, because we'd have to do one on every single person, well, ever. But what if there was something that could give us more intuitive knowledge of whether someone was on our side, without needing to directly involve them in the magicks? And—” She held the leatherbound book out to Giles. “I think there is.”

Giles took the book from her and Buffy got a better look at the title: _Collected Treatises on Magickal Workings for Instinctive Perception and Clairvoyance_. Sheesh. No wonder it'd taken her all night to read.

“Based on what I've read in here and on some websites I found, there should be a way to magickally assist us so we automatically know whether someone is a glove-stealing megalomaniac, just for example.” She glanced at Giles's eye again sympathetically. It did look pretty bad.

Giles flipped through the book thoughtfully before he spoke. “I admit it had occurred to me that there may perhaps be a way for the Slayer to hone her intuitive recognition of allies and enemies, even if said enemies are merely human. I suppose I previously didn't consider it worth pursuing.”

“Hey, I recognized intuitively!” Buffy protested. “I didn't like her.” She shot Giles a look. “And neither did you,” she muttered.

“Yes, well, be that as it may,” Giles said briskly, “You’d likely benefit from looking over the material Willow has been reading.”

“You don't have to though!” Willow cut in hurriedly. “Not for this, anyway.” Her eyes darted between Buffy and Giles, who both looked ready to argue. “I'm sure I can draft a really simple spell and you can be all Intuitive-Buffy pronto! Maybe today, even. The theory is pretty cerebral, but in practice it'll just be a lot of meditating I think. Wanna try?”

“Now?” She didn't want to spend the last of her detention-free hours trying to meditate. “You want me to shut up, sit still, and do nothing right before I have to report to Snyder's office...to shut up, sit still, and do nothing?”

“Oh! No, I didn't mean try it right now. Anyway, I think it's better to do it somewhere quiet anyway, where you won't be disturbed. So like, not here.”

Before Willow had reached the end of her sentence, Cordelia's loud voice came from the doorway.

“I'm just saying, if Devon keeps dressing like that, Dingoes are totally going to be the least fashionable band ever to exist in Sunnydale.”

She was speaking to Oz. Or at him, at least. He, for his part, looked placidly around the room before remarking calmly in reply, “None of the band's been eaten though, so at least we've got that going for us.”

“There you are!” Cordelia said to Xander, ignoring Oz and striding over to the rest of them. “I should've known you'd be in here.” She leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossed. Giles barely spared her a glance before he began talking.

“Buffy, as I'm sure you recall, the typical Slayer training regimen includes studying a great many texts. Perhaps now that Faith is here to shoulder some of the burden, it would be an ideal time to expand your training.”

“No!” she said wildly, the thought of more work to catch up on shoving her right to the precipice of panic and dread. “Ever since I got back, I've basically been a model student,” she elaborated. “Relatively speaking,” she qualified.

“Relative to what?” Cordelia snarked.

Willow spoke before Buffy could snap at Cordelia. “It's true! You've been working so hard, Buffy, especially with all that SAT prep you did on top of slaying.”

“On top of, and during,” Buffy added. “Dusted a fair few vampires with my number 2 pencils.” She pouted then and went on, “I don't know if I even managed to pull off a decent score, and now I have to get through a backlog of homework before I get suspended or whatever Snyder comes up with. Not that there could be any academic punishment worse than Friday night detention,” she muttered. “I mean, God, does he really have nothing better to do than make me suffer?”

“Survey says no,” Xander answered. “So Will, what were you saying about the spell?”

“Right. So, I think if Giles and I can determine an effective incantation to help you clear your mind, or broaden your mind, or... something like that, then you can use it in a kind of meditation practice so that you'll build this, like, evil-spotting zen corner of your mind. There are probably some supplies we could get at the magic shop to help it along, but really the overall spooky witchcraft level would be pretty low. Right?” She looked to Giles. He thumbed through a few more pages of the text.

“Willow may have to refresh my memory on the _Treatises_ , but from what I recall I believe that would be a reasonable place to start,” Giles agreed. “While we don't precisely need to be rushing into doing it, a spell like this doesn't carry much risk, so it might be worth trying it soon if you're ready, Buffy.”

“I can go by the magic shop and meet you at the Bronze later with some supplies and instructions,” Willow volunteered enthusiastically.

“Willow, I can't,” Buffy reminded her. “I have detention with Snyder until nine, and by the time I go drop my school stuff at home and get a patrol in….” She'd been through enough stress this week, what with the drama over Angel's return becoming known to the gang, the ordeal with the evil glove, and the fact that Faith had been mostly incommunicado since. It would've been nice to hang out at the Bronze with everyone and get some fun in, but the detention would undoubtedly result in a headache, and the headache would result in a grumpy Buffy in need of a good night's sleep. She checked the clock. She had about forty minutes before _Saturday Detention: But on a Friday Because Snyder Hates You Edition_.

“Giles, can you bring out the dummy? I want to punch something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback is appreciated! Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by Elysian Fields member [beauty](https://dark-solace.org/elysian/viewuser.php?uid=6328).
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

“Oh hi, Willow. I think Buffy just got up.” Joyce had beaten Buffy to answering the door because Buffy had treated herself to a bubble bath.

“I'll be right down!” Buffy called as the last of the water drained. She tugged a comb through her hair a few times and tied a robe around herself before heading to the stairs. Downstairs, Joyce had ushered Willow to the kitchen counter for a glass of juice before returning to her Saturday morning laundry project.

“Hey Willow,” Buffy greeted her. “Got me some supplies?”

“Yeah!” Willow held out a paper bag. Buffy fished out several hunks of gemstone from a bed of tissue paper. “That’s azurite,” Willow began to explain, pointing to the dark blue stone. “For insight. The clear one is quartz, for clarity. Bloodstone, turquoise, amethyst… They all have magickal properties that should help too.” She handed Buffy a sheet of paper. “Here's some directions,” she said. “And a very simple incantation—no Latin or anything!” She grinned. “I have to run to the Espresso Pump and meet Oz, but call me later if you need help with the spell. How was detention?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I had to spend five and a half quality hours handwriting the entire contents of the student handbook while Principal Snyder read the newspaper and glared at me.”

“So, not so bad, all Hellmouthy things considered?”

“I guess not,” Buffy conceded, pouting while dropping the gemstones back into the bag and setting it on the counter. “I just never want to have to do it ever again.” She frowned as she reached to pour herself a glass of juice. “The only time he left the room was when he took a phone call from the Mayor. It's like it wasn't enough _that_ I was in detention. He needed to _witness_ it.”

“Do you need help catching up on any homework this weekend?” Willow asked as she placed her empty glass in the sink. “Xander's coming over tomorrow and we could make it a study party.” If Buffy wasn't mistaken, her voice got a bit higher as she offered.

“Nah,” Buffy said. When Willow's face fell slightly, she asked, “Is something going on? With Xander? Are you fighting or something?”

“Oh, no.” Willow shook her head vigorously. “Things are just, you know...fine! They're fine. Really fine.” She started toward the front door. “I have to go and meet Oz.” Opening the door, she called “Bye, Mrs. Summers, thanks for the juice” over her shoulder, and was gone. Buffy stood alone in the kitchen, puzzled. Willow had been acting a little weird lately. She seemed on edge, but in a different way than everyone else was. Buffy would have to try to talk to her about it soon.

“That was quick,” Joyce said as she re-entered the kitchen. “What did Willow have for you?”

“Oh, some meditation thing she and Giles came up with,” Buffy replied simply, not wanting to rehash everything Slayerific that had happened in the past few days. There were some things her mom was better off not knowing. “Nothing major.”

“Huh,” Joyce said thoughtfully. “You know, I read an article last week that said students who meditate get better grades.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Buffy said warningly into her juice glass, but Joyce didn't seem to notice her tone.

“So what are you up to today, sweetie?” she asked, putting the pitcher of juice back in the fridge.

“After last night? Figured I'd just veg out and—” she caught sight of the look Joyce was giving her “—write my French paper,” she revised hastily.

“Sounds good to me,” Joyce approved. “You just let me know when you need a break and I can make us some lunch, alright honey?”

“Sure, Mom.”

Begrudgingly, Buffy made her way upstairs to get dressed and bring down her book bag. Academic probation was the worst.

 

***

 

By the end of the day, Buffy had her French paper and most of her neglected history reading assignments under her belt. She stood up at the dining room table where she'd been working and stretched her back, feeling a few cracks as her spine elongated from being bent over her textbooks. It was early for patrol; the sun wouldn't be down for a while longer. She figured she might as well give the meditation spell a shot before she headed out. Maybe she could test it then, see if she got any magickally enhanced vibes of badness from any of the vamps she encountered. 

Joyce had gone to the gallery, so the house was quiet. Buffy went up to her room and, sitting cross-legged on the floor, extricated the contents from the bag Willow had dropped off that morning.

“‘Arrange stones in a circle and clear your mind,’” she read from the instructions. “Yeah, right.” Buffy didn't think she'd have much success clearing her mind. Wasn't her mind supposed to stay all busy, anyway? She was a mystically gifted warrior against the forces of evil, after all. She had to be thinking and always on her guard, right?

She arranged the stones on the floor around her nonetheless and moved on to the next line of the instructions.

_Close your eyes, and when you are ready, say the following incantation twice (once out loud and once to yourself): Upon my higher self I call to bestow the gift to separate friend from foe._

_And then just basically keep your eyes closed and your mind clear as long as you can in one sitting_ , Willow had written next.

“Here goes nothing,” Buffy muttered. “Two seconds of meditation coming right up.”

She breathed slowly, did her best to clear her mind, quoted the incantation, and sat in the silence that followed. Nothing whatsoever happened.

After what felt like decades, she grew bored of listening to the ticking of the second hand on her alarm clock and opened her eyes. Not much time had passed. The blazing colors of sunset were just barely beginning to creep into the sky.

As she made the rounds at the local cemeteries, Buffy tried to judge how her Slayer senses compared to the pre-spell variety. She didn't think there was any difference. Vampires seemed like vampires, and she staked them. Nothing more to it. Maybe she'd give the spell another shot tomorrow.

_Tomorrow_ , she thought to herself. _Another day of catching up on homework so Snyder can't give me another megadetention_. Maybe she should've accepted Willow's invitation to study with her and Xander. But she knew being at home with her mom would result in getting more work done than being around Xander, even if Willow was helping. He wasn't one for powering through mountains of homework, and that's what she needed to do this weekend. Once she was caught up, she could have fun distracted study times with the gang again.

Buffy spent most of Sunday doing homework, making this the most boring weekend in memory. In the evening she called Willow to ask if she’d look over her French paper before classes started Monday morning.

Sheila Rosenberg answered.

“Hi, Mrs. Rosenberg,” Buffy said. “This is Buffy. Is Willow there?”

“Just one moment, dear,” she said. Buffy heard her say, “Willow! Your friend Bunny is on the line,” before handing the phone off.

“Buffy, hey.”

“Hi, Will. How’d it go with Xander?”

“What do you mean?” Willow asked, sounding nervous.

“You know, with the study party thing.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. It was good. It was fine. With the studying and all.”

“Glad to hear it. I think.” Something was definitely up with Willow. But Buffy would rather try to talk to her in person than carry on a complicated conversation over the phone with Willow’s mom hovering nearby. “I just called because I wondered if you could look over my French paper before homeroom tomorrow. I tried reading over what I wrote and I’m not sure it makes, like, any sense.”

“Oui! I can do that.”

“Great. Thanks, Will. I’m almost caught up on makeup work now, and I’m due for some serious veg time in front of the TV.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Buffy crammed her books into her backpack, microwaved some popcorn, and camped out in front of the television. Some tacky reality show was on. Normally she wouldn’t have much patience for it, but after two straight days of homework she loved every minute of it. Loved it so much that she dozed off.

“Wha…?” she grumbled, looking around the dimly lit room some hours later. The kitchen lights were on and Joyce peered around the doorway.

“Oh, hi honey. You’re awake. I would’ve woken you for dinner, but you looked so peaceful.”

“Is that it, or did you not feel like cooking?” Buffy challenged playfully as she sat up and smoothed her hair. “Ugh, what time is it? I should go patrol.”

“You sure? Don’t you just want to go up to bed?”

“Mom, I can’t. Sacred duty and all that.”

“Oh I just thought maybe you could call Faith—”

“I’m not calling Faith, Mom. She’s been all aloof-girl lately anyway. I figure she still needs space after—” she caught herself just as she was about to say her fake watcher went crazy with the glove of evil “—after, you know, having to adjust to life in Sunnydale so fast.”

“Hm, if you think so.” Joyce stepped back into the kitchen. “I’ve been picking at leftovers if you want to grab something before you go out.”

“Nah, I’ll just get going. The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be back.”

It was another fairly routine patrol. No unusual Slayer sense tinglings. Once she was home and settled into bed, she realized she hadn’t tried the spell today.

“Crap.” She sat up and reached down beside her bed to unload the stones from the paper bag and lay them around her on the bedspread. It really was much easier to clear her mind when she was about to go to sleep…

_She was walking on a familiar street, the gates of Restfield Cemetery not a hundred yards away._

_“Hello, cutie,” came a familiar voice. She whipped around and saw him smirking down at her._

_“Spike.”_

_“Fancy a bit o’ the rough and tumble?” She wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but his inflection made it sound filthy._

_“I’m not done baking,” she insisted._

_“Pity, that,” he sighed. “But those words aren't meant for me.”_

_“How do you know they aren't?”_

_“I'll be here longer than he ever was, pet.”_

_“Who?”_

_He laughed at that._

_“You really don't know?” he asked. “He'll keep secrets from you, he will.”_

_“Spike, what are you talking about?”_

_“Just look at yourself, Summers, the state you're in.”_

_She looked down at herself then. Wait. She hadn't been naked this whole time, had she?_

_As she was looking down at her bare body, she felt his fingers curl firmly around her upper arms. Alarmed at the contact, she jumped back. His face had gone vampiric, predatory yellow eyes raking over her. Then his face changed, ridges shifting, and she was looking into the eyes of the Master._

_“It's not the same with William, you see,” his cold voice said. As he stepped close to her, she found that she couldn't move. She closed her eyes, knowing a bite was coming. He'd kill her for real this time. But her eyes fluttered open again when she felt soft lips on her forehead. The Master had turned into Angel, and his lips were at her neck now. She shut her eyes again, this time in pleasure rather than fear._

_“But you'll still give me a taste,” Angel said. But his voice was guttural, fierce._

_Before she could speak or try to push him away, his fangs sank into her flesh._

Buffy clapped a hand to her neck as her alarm clock shocked her awake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by [beauty](https://dark-solace.org/elysian/viewuser.php?uid=6328).
> 
> Some lines adapted from s3e8.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Glad she had arranged to meet Willow before homeroom, Buffy rushed to the library as soon as her mom dropped her off at school.

“Willow, can I talk to you for a second?” she hissed, tugging Willow away from the table and into the stacks.

“What is it, Buffy?”

“The spell,” Buffy said, “Was it supposed to give me weird naked dreams?”

“Dreams? Oh, i-it could affect your dreams I guess.” Her face brightened. “Do you think it worked already?” Her face almost immediately fell again. “Naked?”

“Yep,” Buffy huffed. “I was kinda hoping you'd have an explanation for me.”

“Well, what happened? In the dream. Uh, besides the nudity.”

She hurriedly told Willow about the dream, glad that Giles was tucked away in his office. By the end, Willow looked distinctly unsettled.

“I don't know, Buffy... Maybe ask Giles?” At Buffy's look of distaste, she hurriedly added, “You don't have to tell him about the naked thing, but maybe the other stuff.”

“Maybe you're right,” Buffy gave in and started back toward the table at the center of the library. This was gonna be a fun talk. “But Will, there is something else. About Spike.” At Willow's look of apprehension she explained, “Not a naked thing. In the dream he seemed so, I don't know, friendly almost? And it was like that, a little, when he came to me at the end of last year. When he helped me against Drusilla and Angelus. He talked like we were on the same side. And I don't think I would've survived without him. And now Angel is back, and I'm dreaming about Spike.” Her panicked thoughts spilled out. “Is Angelus going to happen all over again? Is that what the dream is trying to tell me?”

Willow's eyes were wide. “You  _have_  to tell Giles.”

“Tell me what?” Giles inquired, having chosen this moment to step out of his office.

“About a seriously weird dream I had last night,” Buffy replied, flopping into one of the wooden chairs.

“A Slayer dream?” he asked interestedly.

“Yeah, but...more.” She recounted the dream as she had just done for Willow, minus the naked part. “And when I woke up, all the gemstones were still in a circle around me,” she finished. “So do you think it had anything to do with the spell?”

“Oh!” Willow interjected, slapping a palm to her forehead. “Higher self! In the incantation you ask your higher self to help you separate friend from foe! Your higher self already helps you, through the Slayer dreams! Maybe the spell just makes them...more, like you said.”

“My higher self gives me the Slayer dreams?” Buffy asked, trying to follow. She looked to Giles. “Did we know this?”

“It’s, ah, one approach to theorizing…” Giles began. But then a shrill ringing came from the hallway.

“Never mind,” Buffy said as she stood from the table. “Crap, Willow, my French paper!”

Willow flapped her hands in the direction of Buffy's backpack, indicating that Buffy should hand over her French paper post-haste. Buffy fished it out of her bag and thrust it at Willow as the two of them headed for the door.

“Bye, Giles!” Willow called over her shoulder before the door swung shut behind them. Her eyes scanned Buffy’s French paper. “Buffy, this looks okay I think. Do you want me to read through the whole thing? I could just bring it to French class for you.”

“Nah,” Buffy sighed. “I don’t want you to have to fix any mistakes for me.” She took the paper back from Willow. “You seem kinda stressed lately anyway. What’s up?”

“I—me? Stressed? No, I just, the...the SAT! The scores. We are getting them. Today.” Her voice shot upward in pitch as she spoke.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Buffy groaned. They were passing by the lockers, and Buffy noticed Willow cast a glance toward Xander’s, but he wasn’t there at the moment. As believable as it was that academic stressors could put Willow into a wacky-talking anxiety, Buffy still thought something else was off. There wasn’t time right now to start an inquisition though. She gently gripped Willow’s arm as they neared the doorway to Buffy’s classroom. “Will, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

An anguished look crossed Willow’s face. Other students wove around the two of them, rushing toward their classrooms in the final moments before the bell signaling the start of homeroom rang. “Yeah! Of course, Buffy,” she stammered. “I know that, it’s just—” she looked away from Buffy and glanced around at the crowded hallway. “I have to go,” she said abruptly, ducking away from Buffy, seeming uneasy and apologetic.

Okay, that settled it. Something was definitely up. Buffy chewed her lip as she watched Willow go. Maybe Willow had been hitting the caffeine again. That never ended well. But apparently Xander was involved somehow… or maybe Buffy was seeing connections where there weren’t any. She still felt like an outsider after fleeing to LA over the summer, and Will and Xand had known each other long before Buffy’s mom had even decided to move to Sunnydale. She shook her head and slipped into homeroom, tucking her French paper into her backpack just before the morning announcements came over the intercom.

She wished things could just get back to normal. But then, maybe there was no normal in Sunnydale.

 

***

 

Somehow she didn’t do horribly on the SAT. Somehow she actually did  _well_  on the SAT. Her mother had offered to pick her up from school and save her the walk, and Joyce spent the entire drive back to Revello gushing over college prospects as Buffy “hmm”d and “yeah”d at the appropriate moments. It was odd to have this blossoming of possibility thrust upon her by standardized test scores. She expected to be brought back down to reality when she showed the scores to Giles on Tuesday. Sacred duty and all that jazz. But Giles surprised her.

“I’m not asking you to ignore your calling, but you do need to look to your future,” he said as Buffy toyed with the navigational gadgets laid out on the table. “And with Faith here, it may be that you could move on, at least for a time.”

“Wow.” She wasn’t sure what else to say.

“We’ll discuss it when I get back. While I’m gone I’ll expect you to keep up with your training, and with the spell, if you so choose. I’m not entirely certain what to make of your recent dream. It could be a prophetic Slayer dream, or it could merely be a product of the mystery that is your mind. Tensions seem to have been high since your return, after all.” He continued bustling about, removing things from drawers in his office and arranging them to be crammed into a series of duffel bags. He would be spending the Thanksgiving holiday in Breakers Woods on some kind of druidic retreat and by Buffy’s estimation seemed to be seriously overpacking. He’d also left Buffy a key to the library entrance to the school building. Largely unnecessary, since most of the doors into the building were left unlocked despite Sunnydale’s many nighttime dangers.

“So, you think I should try the spell again?” Buffy asked, setting a brass compass back on the table. “I didn’t really get to talk to you about the dream yesterday but...what do you think it means? If it was a Slayer dream, I mean. The Master can’t come back again, right? I got rid of him for real the second time around, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Buffy, I don’t see any possible way for the Master to return. The one possibility was exhausted last year. As for Angelus, I trust you won’t do anything rash,” he said uncomfortably.

“No,” Buffy answered quickly. “No rash. Anywhere. We’re just friends, and that’s all either of us wants.” She looked down at her hands. “That leaves Spike, though. Do you think he’d come back?”

Giles took a moment to reply. “I truly don’t see why he would,” he finally said. “There’s nothing for him here. Drusilla is healed, and I didn’t get the impression he was particularly attached to Angel, even given the sire line.”

It made sense, but Buffy was still uneasy. Giles stood in the doorway of his office and looked at her. “Buffy,” he said. “You ought not worry unnecessarily. It seems remarkable that you would have seen effects of the spell so quickly. There are two Slayers in Sunnydale now, in any event.” When Buffy nodded once, he returned to packing.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “We can take him. It’s just that in the dream it was like I needed to talk to him or something, and he said he’d...stay? Or something. I can’t really remember exactly what he said.”

“Well, if he appears out of nowhere and you want to talk to him then by all means do so,” Giles said, sounding unconcerned. “And if he stays then I’ll have something to look forward to when I get back,” he added as he zipped one of the duffle bags.

“Thanks for the sarcasm,” Buffy said as she stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. “You’re right though, I guess. Probably nothing will happen.” She tried a small smile. “Enjoy your retreat.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue adapted from s3e08.

Wednesday morning found Buffy, fresh from a regular night’s sleep despite having tried the spell again the previous afternoon, accompanying her mother to the grocery store for Thanksgiving shopping. Dinner wasn’t going to be a big to-do, as it was just the two of them, but they’d procrastinated the shopping.

“Apple pie?” Joyce asked. “Or pumpkin?”

“Freezer aisle has chocolate pie,” Buffy said as she dropped a can of cranberry sauce in the cart. “We could have chocolate pie.”

“Oh, don’t be like that honey. I’ll make a homemade pie. Apple or pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin,” Buffy said. “I don’t want to peel apples all day.” Joyce gave her a pointed look but grabbed a can of pureed pumpkin from the shelf.

“Is that everything?”

“We just need the bread for the stuffing and we’re good,” Buffy answered.

With shopping done, a return to enthusiastic college-talk seemed imminent. Sure enough, about a minute into the drive home Joyce started mentioning programs at various schools. “I know you liked that class about Amelia Earhart and Maya Angelou. Maybe you could find a contemporary American history program.”

“Mom.”

“Hm?” Joyce didn’t seem to have picked up Buffy’s tone, too lost in daydreams about Buffy’s hypothetical college major.

“I...have to go to the library for training.”

“Oh, I thought Mr. Giles was away for the rest of the week.”

“Uh, he is. But the forces of darkness don’t go away just because the Watcher goes on vacation, Mom. I still need to train.”

“Will you be back late?” she asked as they turned into the driveway.

“Not sure,” Buffy hedged. She wasn’t actually planning to go work out in the library yet. But she definitely wanted to escape the enthusiastic discussion of her impossibly normal scholarly future. “But I’ll call if I think I’ll be there late.” Joyce turned to her as she shut off the car.

“Maybe I’m being too Mom about this, but you said you wished you could have a normal life. Going away to college could be a wonderful opportunity for you. With Faith here, is there really anything keeping you here in Sunnydale?” When Buffy only shrugged, she sighed and nodded toward the grocery bags in the backseat. “Help me bring these in before you go train?”

 

***

 

“Where do you want to go?” Angel asked.

She had thrown a fistful of college pamphlets into her backpack along with her workout clothes and was now seated on Angel’s couch at the mansion, skimming buzzwords about campus life.

“I have no idea. My mom was the one who got all these. She’s so excited, she can’t stop talking about it. I had to pretend to be going to the library to train, or I don’t think I would’ve escaped this the third afternoon of ‘congratulations, go away!’”

“She doesn’t know about me, does she?” Angel asked as though he already knew the answer.

“Big no. She’s having enough trouble dealing with the Slayer issue; I don’t think she’s ready to process the information that you and I… are friends again.” If they could even be called friends right now. She absently touched her fingers to her neck, the dream swimming in her mind.

Angel nodded, seeming unhappy about the secrecy. But what else could she do? Go,  _Hey Mom, y’know that horrible, creepy, evil guy? Well he’s back and I swear he’s not horrible, creepy, or evil this time!_ Right.

“I think the whole college jones is kind of her reacting to the whole Slayer thing,” said Buffy.

“She wants you to get out.”

“Somewhere a little less Hellmouthy. And she has a point,” Buffy conceded. “But there are reasons to stay too.” She waited for him to say something just right, something romantic and meaningful that spoke of their deep bond of friendship and their dramatic past. But instead…

“What are they?”

And she felt a pang of disappointment.

“Well, uh, you know,” she started, trying to cover the effect of his words. “Slayer duties, obviously.” But beyond that her mind was blank. “What do you think I should do?” she asked Angel, looking at the brochures spread before them on the table.

“As a friend, I…” he started. But then he stood from his seat and went to stand by the fireplace. “I think you should leave,” he continued. “This is a good opportunity for you.” He leaned against the stone, not looking at her.

Another pang.

“Yeah,” Buffy forced out. “It’s not like there’s any great thing keeping me here.” She stood and picked up her backpack, not bothering to gather up all the brochures in her sudden need to get out of Angel’s space. “Thanks for the advice. It’s another perspective to consider.”

Angel moved away from the fire and faced her before she could leave.

“Where are you going?” He seemed puzzled. “You just got here. It’s early.”

“Yeah, well, my mom starts worrying a lot earlier these days.” It wasn’t entirely untrue. “I’ll stop by soon,” she promised.

And with that, she left. She didn’t go home though, because there lay more pamphlets and college enthusiasm. She went to the library. As she changed into her workout clothes in the bathroom down the hall, she considered what Angel had said, and the way he had said it. Things were so messed.

She had done what felt like a million hours of grouchy dynamic stretches and had moved on to jumping rope when the twin doors swung open. Oz and Cordelia rushed in, looking alarmed.

“Thank God, you are here,” Cordelia said.

“Yeah!” Buffy replied, dropping her rope and shaking out her limbs. “We can’t all have dates tonight. What are you guys doing here?”

“Something’s up,” Oz said.

“We were all supposed to meet in the lab, because Willow was working on something,” Cordelia started to explain. “But when we got there, it was a mess and Willow and Xander weren’t there.”

“What kind of mess? Show me.”

The phone rang.

“Crap, I should probably get that.”  _Guess Mom realized I “forgot” to call._

“Hi, Buffy.” It was indeed Joyce. “Still working out?”

“Hey Mom. I’m…” about to freak out about missing friends on top of the attempt to juggle Slayer and schoolgirl life? But Joyce didn’t seem to require her to complete her answer.

“I was hoping we could schedule a college talk later tonight. I admit I overreacted before. You don’t have to go all the way across the country. I picked up some brochures on some nearby schools, okay?”

“That’s great, Mom. But now’s not really…”

And then in the receiver she faintly heard a familiar voice. A voice that she had heard most recently in a dream.

“Hullo, Joyce.”

 _Spike_.

Then a small noise of surprise from Joyce.

“Mom?” Buffy’s brain shifted into high gear. She glanced between Oz and Cordy, who were watching her confusedly. “Mom,” she repeated more urgently when the only response was a muffled chattering of several voices. She thought she might’ve heard Willow’s voice, indistinct though it was. Finally, after a brief shuffling sound, Joyce’s voice came clearly through the receiver again.

“Oh, Buffy, your friend, um, Spike is here. And Willow and Xander are with him. I think he’d like to talk to you.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. Oz and Cordelia stared at her questioningly.

“Fine. Put him on.” Joyce handed the phone off.

“Slayer,” Spike slurred. “Went to ask your friend to work a little spell for me...” He trailed off and breathed heavily into the phone. Then, irritably, “Why’ve I got to be the one to speak on the phone?  _You_.” Another shuffling as Willow took the phone.

“Buffy! Are Oz and Cordy there?”

“Willow,” Oz said quietly. Buffy nodded.  _And Xander_ , she mouthed to Cordelia, who looked relieved but no less confused.

“Yeah, they’re here,” Buffy answered Willow. “What the hell is going on? Why is Spike at my mom’s house? Are you guys okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Spike kind of hit Xander upside the head before I had a chance to explain that you and Giles needed to talk to him, but I think he’ll be okay.”

“But why is he here?” Buffy demanded. “Is he drunk? He sounded drunk.”

“Drunk and heartbroken, apparently,” Willow said, sounding tired. “Dru dumped him and he wants a love spell to get her back.” Her voice perked up, “But Buffy! Don’t you see? He’s here! Maybe that’s what your dream was trying to tell you.”

“Yeah. Great.”  _My dream might have also been trying to tell me that Angelus and the Master are going to show up and attack me._  “Willow, you get stakes and stuff from my room in case Spike tries anything. Cordelia and Oz and I are coming over there. Be careful.”

After hanging up she dashed to grab her bag as she explained quickly to Cordy and Oz, “Spike’s in town looking for a love spell from Willow apparently.”

“What?” Cordelia said.

“Yeah. They’re all at my house now though. Oz, can you drive?”

With a silent nod from Oz, the three of them left the library together. Buffy moved as quickly as she could without breaking into a run, the words  _Hello, cutie_  rumbling in her head.

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback is appreciated, even the super nitpicky stuff!


End file.
